The Cure For Pain Is The Thing Making Me Sick

(Verse 1)
The sun peeks through the blinds like a judge’s light
Finding all the wrongs I did in the middle of the night
My head is a drum and the rhythm is ‘need’
A little white circle is the mouth I have to feed.
I used to wake up early just to watch the corn grow
Now I’m staring at the ceiling with nowhere left to go
The dog don't even bark no more when I walk in the room
He just curls up in the corner, hiding from the gloom.
(Chorus)
And it’s a long way down from the mountain I was on
When the strength in my back and my spirit is gone
It started with a doctor and a bad back slide
Now I’m just a ghost with nowhere to hide.
Oh, the bottle’s got a rhythm, and the cap’s got a click
And the cure for the pain is the thing making me sick.
Yeah, the cure for the pain... is the thing making me sick.
(Verse 2)
There’s a picture on the mantle of a man I used to be
With a tan on his face and his daughter on his knee
Now Sarah stays at her mama’s, three counties away
And I tell myself I’ll call her, but never today.
I traded the tractor, then I traded the truck
For a handful of "maybe" and a whole lot of "stuck"
The mirror’s got a layer of dust and regret
And a shadow of a man I ain't ready to meet yet.
(Chorus)
And it’s a long way down from the mountain I was on
When the strength in my back and my spirit is gone
It started with a doctor and a bad back slide
Now I’m just a ghost with nowhere to hide.
Oh, the bottle’s got a rhythm, and the cap’s got a click
And the cure for the pain is the thing making me sick.
(Bridge)
They say "just stop," like it's easy as rain
Like there's a switch in your heart for the fear and the strain
But when the lights go out and the walls start to shake
The only thing real is the choice I can’t make.
(Guitar Solo - Slow, weeping slide guitar)
(Outro)
The sun’s going down on another wasted day
I’m kneeling by the bed, but I forgot how to pray.
Just one more for the tremors... just one to feel right...
And I’ll try to be a better man, starting tomorrow night.
Yeah, tomorrow night...

Gravelly Outlaw Country, raw male voice, solo acoustic guitar, whiskey-soaked, mournful, lonesome, gritty, sparse